


Letters Home

by Orichalxos



Category: The Hidden Almanac (Podcast)
Genre: Epistolary, Gen, Magical Girl Anime, Post-Canon, Zombie Mint, spoilers for post-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 23:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20786510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orichalxos/pseuds/Orichalxos
Summary: A selection of letters, clippings, and other information kept in a small wooden box in a two-bedroom cottage in Echo Harbor.





	Letters Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [squeequeg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squeequeg/gifts).

_ A selection of letters, clippings, and other information kept in a small wooden box in a two-bedroom cottage in Echo Harbor. _

  
  


Dear Mord, but not in a “DEAR JOHN” kind of “Dear Mord” way, except maybe a little,

It’s been a really, really long winter. Like really long. Especially when we got iced in after the tequila ran out? That was extra long, even if it was just a couple of days. Anyway it’s been long. And it’s really hard to write self help advice when all I can think about is shoveling snow and ice dams and whatever it is that started dripping. I’ve got self-helper’s block, Mord, and that’s not good for my income stream!

And maybe it’s not the best idea for two people who are trying to keep themselves a secret to be in the same place? I mean imagine if the Thanatopic Embassy came looking for us! We’re a target rich environment, all by ourselves! 

Also - I’m sorry to tell you - I am tired of hearing about forcing bulbs. I don’t want to think about what bulbs get forced into. That’s just wrong, Mord, wrong. 

So I’m taking a vacation! So long, Mord, I’m off to see the world! I packed the disguises so I won’t blow our cover, and I booked a ticket under a sneaky assumed name. 

And...look, I’ll come back. I’ll definitely come back. I just need some time away. Gotta re-discover myself, because the last time I went off on a trip to find myself, I didn’t have beetles and sprouts. 

I’ll write. Try not to miss me? Or enjoy it too much without me?

\---

Postcard “See the Troyzantium Colossus!”

Hi M! It’s me, D!

Hiked the whole length of the colossus today and remembered that my knees are not my friends. Recuperating in a little b&b with a piece of key lime pie. Ah memories.

Also, are the beetles supposed to tan? I’ve slathered everything in sunblock but that makes me feel woozy. 

\--

Postcard “Big Melissa’s Agave Haven”

**illegible scrawl, stain with faint tequila smell**

\---

Postcard advertising the MerryMay Folk Festival in Scenic Desertville Flats

Hi M! It’s me, D! 

Saw this happening and got a little nostalgic. Might drop by and take a look - there’s no reason to hold grudges on account of a long-ago ex, right? New me, new life, no grudges held!

\--

Newspaper clipping: 

MASSIVE EXPLOSION LEVELS MERRYMAY FOLK FESTIVAL

DOZENS OF DULCIMERS DESTROYED

MIRACULOUS ESCAPES FOR FESTIVALGOERS

“It’s a miracle nobody was hurt,” says Windle Partridge, leader of the MoreMoreMorris Dancers. “I mean, something exploded and destroyed every single instrument in the place, but nobody got even a splinter. What do you call that except miraculous?”

\--

Postcard from Scenic Desertville Gas Stations

Grudges held, Mord. Grudges held.

\---

On a note pushed under the door:

We see what you are doing. We will not be outflanked. You may send your seasoned troops after us, but we will swarm them and take our dread vengeance. 

We have left both you and her a bee. Two bees. We are everywhere. 

\- The Cannibal Fly Priesthood

\---

Postcard: It’s Always Sunny in the Coriander Isles!

Mord, you gotta come out here sometime! They have twelve kinds of tequila and I think they’ve done something with raised beds like the ones you’re always talking about. There’s even a botanical garden you might like. 

The one downside is the flies which are, like, everywhere. I swear I had to swat five away from my drink last night. Still, the beetles seem to like it here, so you should definitely visit. 

\---

Tabloid clipping:

HAUNTING AT BARZOK’S CROSSING! UNQUIET DEAD STALK THE BAYOU!

HORRIFYING VEGETATIVE HORRORS SPREAD HORROR THROUGH THE LAND!!!! IT'S HORRIBLE!!!

IS THE DARK REVENGE OF BARZOK’S BAYOU ABOUT TO CLAIM OUR TOWN???

HAS GLOBAL WARMING CAUSED THE BAYOU CURSE TO SPREAD???

\--

Hi Mord! 

So, don’t be mad. You’re mad just reading this, right? So put down the letter and come back when you’re not mad. 

You’re still mad. I can tell.

Okay so now that we’re all calm and epistolary, let me explain. I was trying to cross a swamp, and there was this soggy patch and some warning signs about some wraith-infested hammerweed, and I’d already lost my good boots during the Saint Carrie’s Day festival. So I had this idea about negotiating with the hammerweed to get across, right? But trying to get an individual plant’s attention wasn’t working, so I kind of corralled it all into a big ball. 

  
Turns out that when you squish a bunch of quasi-sentient plants into a single space, they end up a lot more sentient - not totally thinking, more like a cross between a shambling mound and an overaffectionate Labrador. So there I am with this squishy shambling puppy thing that just wants to follow me around.

Most places in town don’t want something that tries to either absorb their pets or put down roots on their shoes. And I don’t want a pet! I’m not suited for taking care of a pet, Mord, and Lichweed (oh yeah I named it Lichweed) isn’t as low-maintenance as George. 

So we traveled for a week or so, scaring the bejeezers out of most people we encountered, despite my best assurances that Lichweed just wanted to play. 

And then it turns out that the swamp is actually inhabited by an ancient eco-terrorist vengeance spirit! A big softie, really, once you get to know it. I spent a few days hanging out with the vengeance spirit (Gordo, to friends) and we got to talking (eventually; there was a lot of screaming first). (Like a lot of screaming. All the screaming. From both of us. Lichweed didn’t but that’s because I don’t think it has vocal cords.)

Anyway, Gordo and Lichweed really liked being around each other. Gordo’s been really lonely in the swamp for a while, and I tried not to look relieved when Lichweed wanted to stay there when it was time for me to leave. 

Also, when I was talking with Gordo, I learned a few things about, y’know, people like us. Turns out there are a *lot* of ways that our “condition” can happen, and oh my goodness am I thankful to the Madonna of Leaves that it was a pretty simple one. With minimal fruiting bodies. 

It’s good that Gordo and Lichweed are friends. It can get pretty lonely being by yourself for a long time. 

\--

Letter, with torn snack food packet attached:

Hi Mord! I spent the solstice on a fun little island with some pretty revolutionary ideas about welcoming visitors. We got along fine once I met the Grand Matriarch and shared some fortified mead, but it was a little tricky for a bit. I sure learned my lesson about making jokes about wicker furniture! 

I’ve enclosed a treat for George. Did you know you can get gjetost-flavored Cheetos here? 

\--

Praise be! In the name of the Madonna of Leaves, we send this offering to the Abbot of the Hermitage of St. Mord, in thanks for our survival!

You may be wondering why we send these gifts to your hermitage! When our hamlet was threatened by the encroaching hordes, we prayed to many gods for guidance - and lo, a wanderer came forth and cleansed the land of doom! 

We begged her to reveal from whom this power came, that we may offer our thanks, and the wanderer spake the name of St. Mord, skilled with trowel and spade; thus, we send you these offerings to support the Hermitage! May those monks who shelter within find refuge; may our meager gifts support you, that you may spread the word of St. Mord and his wonders, for the wanderer forbade us to cheapen the saint’s name with casual mention!

Thus we send you these offerings of our rescue, and ask that you sing the saint’s praises in your lonely hermitage, shut away from the prying eyes of mere mortals! Praise be! 

\--

Hey Mord, I don’t know if you got any strange letters? See there was this manor house I stumbled into a few weeks ago, and they had an infestation of zombie mint, and it was making everybody really sad, and well...okay, when they asked me where I learned all of that, I said something like “that’s nothing, you should see what Mord can do with a pruning rake!” and well...

Anyway it oughta keep you in seed packets for a while. And they promised not to tell anyone, as long as they could send you a bunch of money! I made them promise to send a couple cuttings or seeds for the next few years, too. 

Also here’s a cutting of the zombie mint, in the lead-lined pot with runic inscriptions around the side. I don't suggest planting it.

\--

Promotional mailing:

It’s been a big spring for Scarlet Wombat! Read our new selections: 

_ Transformations: A Totally Metaphorical Poetry Collection About How Your Body Changes _

_ Life Quest Journeys on $30 A Day _

_ Beetles I Have Known _

_ Take a Deep Breath: Effective Communication with People Who Get Mad Over, Like, Nothing at All _

_ Finding Your Inner Root System: Understanding The New You by Poking Around In Your Own Innards _

and  _ Zombulations: Hiding From The Dead for Fun, Profit, and Spiritual Development. _

\--

dere mr Mrod,

I am Seven yrs old + Alex says Im too littl to be a Garlik Scout like them but Im not. I want to ern my Garlik Badj for Leter writing. 

I hop your are good

Alex is rong Im can mail this Leter + be a Garlik Scout becaus leeder Dorm says were all big enoug insid. 

also Dorm says to allways remember that your not Alon. 

<strike> cinsr </strike>

<strike> sinceer </strike>

<strike> censeerle </strike>

yours trule,

Rhoda (age 7)

Included with this is an order form for Garlic Scout Cookies, addressed to MISTER MROD. A red circle has been drawn around “new white cheddar chocolate crunchies”, and the paper is slightly torn from peck marks.

\--

Hi, Mord! It's me, Den Leader Drom!

So about those letters you've been getting from the Garlic Scouts. There's a funny story behind that - involves a meetup at a Troyzantium trivia night, a prolonged argument about first graders vs. undergraduates, and a headmistress on sabbatical, and long story short, I'm now in charge of Garlic Scout Troop #135.

I ran out of ideas pretty early on, so I had the Scouts start on their "community outreach" badge and it kind of got mixed up with the "letters to shut-ins" project and a conversation about people who taught me how to identify cult agents. 

Anyway the Scouts mean well, and I thought you'd like the letters. But I looked in the den handbooks from a few decades back and came up with a better idea! Next up, I'm going to resurrect (ha!) the Mixology badge! That counts as STEM education, right?

\--

Hey Mord, thanks for wiring me the bail money. Mixology was kind of a mistake, and I won’t be visiting that town again for a while, but in ten years’ time this town will have the best martinis for miles around, and any mime cultists that come through are going to get shivved faster than they can yank an invisible rope. I’m so proud of them!

\--

Written across the back of a program from Magical Girl Con:

_ Best wishes to my new - and possibly my only - fan _

\- Manfreda Eggbonnet, Creative Consultant for  _ Yes! Irrigation Battler! _

Hi Mord! I got this for you at Magical Girl Con XIV! You remember how last winter when we were iced in, I made you watch  _ Yes! Irrigation Battler _ with me and you didn't set anything on fire till after like six episodes, which was kind of a record? And you said, well, some unkind things about the writing but that the botanical details were accurate? Well, I found the botanist who advised the writers! 

It wasn't easy - I mean, they don't really have signing booths for the creative consultants - but it turns out she was there because she's a fan of some of the new stuff like  _ Must I Wield? _ and  _ Glitter Brick _ . (I know I showed you  _ Glitter Brick _ . It was just before I ran out of tequila.) 

So we had a lovely time, and then guess who showed up! You won't guess, so I'll tell you. Gurthnak the Shredder! Who, I must say, has really gotten the hang of cosplay. Don't worry, his vision's still pretty bad, so he just said I looked like an old friend and I took offense that he was saying all women my age look alike and he got all apologetic and said he didn't mean anything by it and so I don't think I have to worry about him saying anything to the Thanatopic Embassy. 

Anyway, Freda and Gurthnak really hit it off, so I eventually excused myself and let them have an evening out, but not before I got an autograph for you. Hope you like it! 

Also we're totally watching Season 2 of  _ Y! IB _ when I get home. Freda says she had a little more say in Season 2, but that you should probably skip episode 4 because the writers really wanted to include a carnivorous hellebore. And oh yeah, I’m coming home soon. 

\--

Promotional mailing:

New from Scarlet Wombat Press! 

_ Fido’s Eco-Manifesto: Raising A New, Ecologically Conscious You and Your Pets _

_ 101 Cocktails for STEM Education _

_ Look Homeward, Dingbat: A Meditation On Travel _

and  _ We Shall Not Cease From Exploring: Creating A Yearly Plan For Life Quest Journeys _

\--

Hi Mord! So I know it’s late notice, but can you pick me up at the train station next Tuesday? The Echo Harbor train listing says I might arrive either Tuesday, or a week from Tuesday, or as a very small penguin, but I think that probably means Tuesday. 

I sent a few things home by mail. Don’t unwrap them until I get there! I want to see your reaction. And especially don’t unwrap anything that comes from Barzok’s Crossing without tongs.

I’m pretty sure I haven’t managed to really see the world yet, or find myself. (Not that I ever did when I was younger, it was just cooler to say then.) But I did start thinking about when I could show you  _ Glitter Brick Unlimited Reboot _ and whether the Garlic Scout cookies came in and what the cottage looks like after a couple years of your gardening. And I missed you. It’s good to be coming home.

Plus I already booked tickets out to the Coriander Isles for the spring equinox. You’re coming, right? 

\--

Dear Sir or Madam,

This is to inform you that your petition to canonize Drom, pastor and former professor of the Ravencoast School of Divinity, will be moving forward to the next stage of ecclesiastical review. As of today, the following miracles have been attested to and ascribed to the late Pastor Drom. 

\- 1 posthumous appearance (location: test garden)

\- 1 eradication of the blight of zombie mint

\- 1 apparition prior to the protection of all attendees at the MerryMay Folk Festival

\- Sub-miracle to previous: destruction of all instruments at the MerryMay Folk Festival (contested due to uncertain definition of miracle and protest from the Acoustic Guitar Appreciation Society (Clerical Division))

\- 1 removal of temptation when 15 liters of tequila vanished from the meeting grounds of Garlic Scouts Troop 135

\- 1 exorcism of a dead spirit who had taken on the vestments of the character Pegasus-Nine from  _ Must I Wield?  _ and was terrorizing the Troyzantium Magical Girl Convention; said spirit departed the premises after the apparition of Drom was seen abjuring it with two cups of coffee

We consider this more than sufficient to move your petition forward and will be contacting you again following the decision of the ecclesiastical board. 

We also ask that maybe the saint-in-potentia might ease up a bit on the miracles, as our bookkeepers are already overworked. 

\- The Hagiographers’ Assembly

_ Scrawled on forwarded envelope of the previous letter _ : No promises, Mord. 

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of six years of Drom and Mord. Written with Squeequeg, who is the best ficpartner ever.


End file.
